Once Upon a Midnight Dream
by ThisNameIsStupid
Summary: When dreams cross into reality and troubling affects arise from them, how will the RED team handle it?
1. The Night Before

**A/N - Hello! This is my first multiple chapter fic, so I apologize if it's not the best. But I will try my best to improve as this goes along. Reviews and the like are appreciated, but not required. Now onto the show...**

"Every one of you deserves a medal!"

The RED team had just won their third battle in a row, and on a day before a weekend of ceasefire no less. Spirits were high and it was clearly showing.

"Yo, did ya see me out there?! I was flyin'! Those idiot BLUs didn't even see what hit 'em!" Scout talked loudly as he walked next to Sniper.

"Yes, yes. Good job lapin," Spy muttered. Scout paid no attention to the usually offensive nickname and kept bragging. He kept talking even as the team walked into the base.

"So," Demoman interrupted,"who wants ta celebrate tonight?"

"Like, drinking?" Scout paused his story to ask. Demo nodded and the Bostonian immediately agreed.

"I suppose I could," Engineer said. Pyro mumbled yes. "I can bring vodka," Heavy offered. Spy shrugged. "Why not?" Scout nudged Sniper. "Come on man! It'll be fun!" Sniper shook his head. "No thanks mate. I would rather stay in me camper an-" "You will be at the party tonight private!" Soldier shouted. "Fine. I'll come," Sniper knew that there was no point in arguing with the insane American. Demoman smiled. Everyone was coming except-

"Hey doc, you comin' or what?" Scout asked Medic.

"Sorry, but I von't be attending." "But why not? It's always fun to see ya wasted! Remember last time you got drunk and ya-" "I don't vant to drink tonight. I have papervork to fill out. Und you'll need someone to help you vith your hangovers tomorrow," Medic pointed out.

"Do not worry about me doctor," Spy said as he lit a cigarette,"I won't be drinking as much tell others. I'll be enjoying the show."

"Hey! Just because I sing one time don't mean I'll do it again!" Sniper cried indignantly.

Demo started to get drinks ready. "Oh tonight is gun' be real fun!"

Medic laid in his bed. His room was attached to the Medical Bay which, although still connected to the base, was quite a bit away from the center of the house. Still, he could hear music and ruckus come from the living room where everyone else was. He had been in bed for what seemed like hours, the noise preventing him from sleeping.

Medic turned onto his stomach and wrapped an extra pillow around his head. It covered his ears and muffled the sounds echoing through the base. He breathed out a sigh of relief and slowly drifted off to sleep.


	2. Medic

**A/N: Hi! You prolly thought I would never update... You were right. Many a thanks to EnderGirl for** **encouraging me to write. (You should go and check out her profile. She has some really good fics up.) Anyways, on with the story!**

"Herr Heavy?" Medic called as he walked into the infirmary. There was no one in sight.

Odd. Medic had ordered Heavy to stay the night in the Medical Bay to make sure there were no malfunctions with the heart after the battle the day before, and the larger man had habit of listening to the doctor. Medic couldn't spot Heavy in the room and decided there would be no reason to double check - Heavy would never be able to hide himself in Medic's workplace.

The doctor walked to the door that led out of the bay and opened it while thinking. Heavy would most likely be in the kitchen to make himself a fresh sandvich. It wouldn't be too strange. The Russian had left a battle to add mayonnaise to a dry sandvich once after all. Medic took a step into the waiting hall and paused when he breathed in the different air.

The scent of blood hung in the breeze. Medic swallowed thickly as pictures of torture and gore entered his mind. _Something_ had gone wrong. He shook his head to clear it of the possible scenarios that would be cause this much blood to be spilled and hurried to find the source of he smell.

No one was in the garage. Or the kitchen, dining room, living room, wash room, or any of the downstairs rooms really. That only left the bedrooms and Medic ran upstairs to check them, almost falling over himself at one point.

The closest door was Heavy's, the first room on the right. Medic couldn't hear any noises coming from it but he knocked anyways. When he got no answer he entered the room and shut the door behind him. He saw Heavy's silhouette and allowed himself a small smile. It looked like Heavy was sitting on the edge of the mattress. "Heavy?"

The man stood at the name. A twinge of pain shot through Medic's legs. He grimaced at the uncomfortable feeling, which got more and more intense with every passing second. Heavy stood tall in front of Medic and he stared at the monster in front of him.

Heavy was wearing his normal battle attire, but rips and tears crossed every article of clothing. The shirt was just shreds and the pants had gaping holes in them. Heavy didn't wear his shoes or gloves or bullet sash. His skin was worse than the state of his clothes, Medic noticed. Through the tears in his shirt, Medic could see deep cuts littering his chest. Bruises covered almost every inch of flesh, giving Heavy a dead, sickly look. His arms had small slashes on them and his legs had large patches of skin missing with muscles, tissues, and bone gleaming in the dim light. Heavy's left eye was swollen shut and his lip was bleeding. The only part of him left unscathed was his hands.

"Vhat happened?!" Medic panted, the feeling in his lower half growing more painful. No answer. Heavy took a step towards the struggling doctor and the mans legs gave out. Medic sank to his knees and reached for his head. His hands clawed uselessly at the slicked-back curls but he continued anyways, wanting to rid his body of the unnatural pain he was feeling.

Heavy bent down in front of Medic, lip curled in disgust. "You could have helped. If only you had felt my pain during the surgery like you're feeling it now." Heavy continued to talk but Medics mind began to fog and the words blended in with the buzzing in his ears. Medics hands dropped from his head as the world started to become black. He felt Heavys large hands grasp his neck.

"Maybe you should put others before yourself for once."

Medic jolted up from his bed. His legs were tangled in his blanket and his pillows had fallen onto the floor. He looked around his room to make sure he wasn't dreaming again. No, it was the night after a successful battle, almost four in the morning. Medic ran his hand through his hair and glanced down at it, small drops of blood on his fingers. Had he been pulling his hair like he had in the dream?

He stood slowly from his mattress and winced at the echoing pain in his thighs. Medic clumsily slid his glasses from the nightstand to his face. A glance to his mirror showed his sad state - his glasses hung on the end of his nose, his hair was plastered to his head with sweat, blood stained small portions of his scalp and hands, and he looked miserable. Medic straightened his spectacles and calmed himself down enough so that his expression became neutral.

The doctor shook his lingering feelings of dread and fear and walked towards Heavy's room. The dream-Heavy's words ran through Medics head as he stumbled to his friends place of rest. He cared for the others. Right?


	3. The First

**A/N: I'm back again - this time with a longer chapter! I would like to say thank you to Chosenbap for following this story, Annomynous for reviewing, chibiofdeath for favoriting me, and VivianShadwGirl for favoriting this story. It really means a lot.**

Heavy was woken from his slumber by a frantic Medic. His friend shook him by the shoulders with as much strength as he could muster and the feeling pulled Heavy from his dream.

"What?" Heavys voice rumbled. Medic visibly relaxed and climbed off of the Russian, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Heavy sat up and pulled his legs closer to his body so Medic would have more room. Medic seemed to understand the motion and he moved back to sit shoulder to shoulder with the giant, neither of them looking at each other.

Medic took a deep breath. "I had a nightmare." Heavy didn't saw anything. The doctor didn't like to talk about his emotions and Heavy wasn't going to make him talk until he was ready.

"It vas zhe day after zhe Uberheart surgery. You veren't in zhe infirmary so I vent looking for you. I found you in your room… You vere bleeding und cut und bruised." Medic didn't elaborate on the extent of Heavys injuries but gruesome imagery filled the larger mans mind. "Vhenever you moved I could feel your pain. My legs gave out and zhe pain vas equal to getting burned or shot."

Heavy looked at Medic while he paused. He was shaking slightly, from what part of the dream Heavy wasn't sure, and his glasses were starting to slid down his nose again. Medic breathed in deeply and Heavy noticed his head. Or more accurately, his hair. Heavy lightly touched one of the spots were blood had soaked his locks and Medics head flew upwards. Heavy put his hand back in his lap and Medic exhaled loudly.

"I clawed at my hair vhile I vas asleep. I'm fine." Heavy nodded. Medic turned his head downwards again "You, vell, zhe dream you, told me zhat I should put otzers before myself."

Heavy glared at Medic with rage in his eyes. "You do. You die for us all the time and stay up late to help us. You are credit to team."

"Maybe." Medic lifted his head and pushed his glasses to their rightful place.

"So," Heavy desperately wanted to stop Medic from thinking badly of himself, "why did you come to me?"

Medic shifted. "I vanted to make sure you vere alright." Heavy laughed lowly. "Vhat?" Medic asked, offended.

"You wanted to check on me. Is cute." Heavy smiled playfully at his teammate.

"Fine," Medic scoffed and hid a smile, "I guess you won't mind not being ubered or healed on zhe battlefield. Or not having me viz you."

"No doktor. You must stay with me. Am your shield after all."

Medic smiled openly and stretched, joints popping loudly. Heavy winced slightly at the sound.

"You should go back to bed. Still have a while before morning, get some more sleep." Medic doubted he'd be able to fall back asleep, but he stood from the bed anyways.

"Danke, Heavy. For listening."

Heavy smiled at his friends back as he left the room. The door clicked shut behind him, and Heavy laid back down, thinking about the similarities between both of their dreams.

Medic shut Heavys door and started to walk down the stairs to go back to his room. He was on the second to last step when he collapsed.

It was if the enemy Heavy had punched him in the gut, the pain was that great. The pain wasn't centered around his stomach, however, it was in his head. Medics head pounded and he shut his eyes tightly to try and block out the intense pressure that pressed against his skull.

Along with the headache came a different type of pressure that surrounded Medic. It was a whirlwind of… Feelings?

Pain, fear, joy, a vast majority of emotions Medic had experienced in his life swam around him. He felt them too, wanting to cry and smile and attack something because of the conflicting feelings that wormed their way inside of him. Medics hands somehow found his head again and the dim pain that came from scraping his nails against his scalp did nothing to alleviate the pain in his head.

Medic grit his teeth and held his breath. He tried waiting for this /thing/ to pass, but when nothing happened, he growled. Medic tried to stand but found he could do nothing but breathe. Even his hands had stopped their clawing and they fell useless to his sides. He continued to sit on the step and figured out something interesting.

Each emotion came with a certain feel to it. The feel translated into scent and taste and Medic was able to tell from which mercenary it came from. It was very weird, to delve into his coworkers feelings like this. But with nothing else to do other than experiment, Medic let his curiosity take control.

Citrus, fruity, and almost too sweet. Scout. Pride and joy. For whatever reason, when Medic concentrated on it, an image floated from the mash of emotions. It was a young boy, maybe about eleven years of age, who was wearing a uniform and holding a wooden baseball bat. The boy was grinning widely, crooked teeth shining in the bright sunlight. A baseball was held in place under his shoe and it looked slightly frayed. Medic had no doubt that this was Scout as a kid.

Smoke, spices, and heat. Spy. Nervousness and patience. It was a dark alley, Medic seeing the back of a thin mans back. The man wore a dark gray suit and a tuft of black hair sat curled on his head. The man, Spy, held his butterfly knife in hand and stared to down the road where a thicker man stood under a street lamp. If Medic could have moved, he would've opened his eyes in surprise. He was seeing a younger Spy, one who looked like he was on his first paid kill, if the anxiety was anything to go on.

Alcohol and chemicals. Demoman. Hatred and loathing. An image started to form as Medic focused, but his head began to pound and it drifted back to where it came from.

Medic tried to keep exploring this new sensation, he really did, but he felt himself begin to black out. His skull felt about ready to burst and he was loosing feeling in his extremities. With the last of his strength he pried his mouth open and tried to call for help.

"Heavy!"

Only nine minutes had passed since Medic had left to go back to his room. Heavy had just been laying on his bed, hands clasped over his stomach. It usually took him almost half an hour to fall asleep, so he wasn't too concerned about still being awake. He was, however, concerned about the sense of dread that was growing in his chest. He sat up and rubbed his hands over his face, exhausted and worried.

It turned out he had a reason to be bothered.

A small thump came first. Heavy thought for a minute that Medic had missed a step, that he tripped over himself. He paused his movements and his brow furrowed. But the doctor was never clumsy, only becoming accident-prone on the few occasions when he got absolutely hammered.

A groan. Heavy stopped breathing at this point, wanting to hear the noises better.

Nothing happened.

Then, his name.

Heavy leaped from his bed. He swung his door open and it hit the wall with a bang. His feet were surprisingly quiet on the floor, but the steps still creaked with his weight as he paced down them.

"Doktor!"

Medic was curled on one of the steps, more blood on his hands and head. His eyes were shut but his eyes underneath them twitched and fluttered. His breathing was labored and he shook from the effort.

Heavy placed a hand on Medics shoulder and the Germans eyes flung open as he took a deep breath, one that wasn't restricted by the tightness of his chest.

All the emotions had left Medic. He was able to feel his own feelings and think without anyone influencing him. He wasn't sure what caused it, but he needed help. And help wasn't Medic liked asking for.

"What happened?" Heavys hand gripped Medic tightly as the shorter man rose from his position on the stair.

Medic looked down at his blood-coated fingernails. He sighed, then looked up to Heavy with solemn eyes.

"Bring everyone to zhe infirmary. I'll explain it zhere."


	4. You Alright There?

**A/N: Hallo there! This chapter is a bit delayed... Sorry about that. But thank you to EnderGirl, Annomynous, and pooptowel for motivating me to write. Also thank you to The Almighty Pickle Lord XD for following this story a while back. You guys rock!**

Medic washed his hair in the bathroom connected to the infirmary. All it had was a toilet and a sink, put there for sick patients who couldn't walk all the way to the normal restroom.

The doctor was bent over the sink, back bending uncomfortably so he could get the water from the faucet to his hair.

His fingers ran through his knotted curls and blood ran down the drain.

He sighed.

The day was already off to a great start.

Scout twitched in his seat. The silence buzzed in his ears and he was getting sick of it. "Are ya gunna talk or what?"

Heavy stood besides Medic, hand resting protectively on his shoulder. The emotions in the room were dulled, only the strong feelings of confusion and drowsiness affecting Medic.

All the other men stood scattered across the room. Engineer and Pyro stood side by side against the wall, Sniper was the closest to the door, Spy stood in the corner, Demoman and Soldier were at Medic's desk, and Scout was sitting in one of the metal chairs that he grabbed from the hallway.

Engineer glared at the younger mercenary. Medic ran his hand through his hair for the third time since everyone gathered. They all stood facing the doctor, waiting for him to speak.

"Did anyvone haff strange dreams tonight?" A few faces changed from tired to surprised. Medic nodded at the emotion, seeing as he felt it flare lightly in his abdomen.

"Zhat's vhat I zhought. I had vone as vell, and it seems to had some odd side affects. For example, I'm feeling your emotions right now."

Scout laughed. "What type a drug did ya give yourself this time?"

"None, Herr Scout. I vish I vas lying. Do you know how annoying it is to feel your constant energy?" A spike of annoyance came from Scout. "Annoyed?" Scouts face went blank as anger shot off of him and into Medic. "Calm yourself, no need to get mad."

"Dis is so stupid!" Scout huffed.

"I believe him." Demoman spoke up. "They're called Empaths. They can feel other peoples emotions. Meanin' that they can feel other people's pain as well." Demoman's mother had believed in the supernatural and she passed down the knowledge to her son.

"How would that happen though? I don't see how a relatively normal man can go from fine to mythical in one night. Or at all, really." Engineer tried to bring logic into the mess.

"It doesn't 'appen," Spy drawled. "Something isn't adding up 'ere."

"I think this is some commie plot to take over the base!"

"Soldier, shut up."

The arguing continued, emotions beginning to run wild. Medic's steel gray eyes glossed over as he focused on one person, who soon noticed.

"Uh, doc? You alright?" Sniper's voice paused the conversations going on around him. "Medic?"

Medic was lost in the sea that was Sniper. His 'feel' was dirty and musky, smelling of the wilderness and tasting of black coffee. Most of his emotions were directed inwards, meaning that Sniper hid his feelings in himself, and they were hidden well. Medic had already spent three minutes trying to break into Sniper's strong defenses and hadn't even made a crack yet. But there was something else odd about the Aussie… There was a certain feeling radiating steadily off of him, making Medic shiver. It was cold and foreign and didn't match at all with Sniper's warm and familiar feel.

"Yo!"

Medic shook his head and snapped out of his trance. "Was ist los?"

"You were starin' at Snipes like you were lovestruck or somethin'!" Scout interrupted the quiet again.

"Herr Sniper!" Medic gasped. "Spy, Sniper, stay here. Everyone else get out! Los, los!"

"What are ya talkin' abou-" Sniper collapsed in the middle of his sentence, falling onto his knees on the cold tiled floor. Sniper's arm were wrapped limply around Heavy's neck as the giant carried him over to the metal table that was always present in the infirmary. Heavy placed him down gently before ushering everyone out with him. No one complained as they were sent out of the room.

Spy glanced from Medic to Sniper and back again. "Why do you need me here doctuer? I 'ave no medical training."

Medic checked Snipers pulse. It was steady and he was breathing easily. "I need you to vatch over me."

"What are you doing?" Medic grasped a syringe in hand and held it over his arm. He sank into the chair at his desk and paused.

"Earlier, vhile everyone vas asleep, I saw images from your dreams. I vas thinking zhat if I could somehow enter Sniper's mind, seeing as he's unconscious…" The needle plunged into Medics arm and Spy winced at the action. "Keep watch over Sniper und I."

Medic's eyes closed and he slumped in his seat. Spy lit a cigarette and breathed a cloud of smoke over the two sleeping bodies in front of him.

Medic's eyes snapped open. He spun around but saw nothing. White, white, and more white for as long as the eye could see. Medic took a step forwards and stared at his footprints. He still wore his sleepwear, not wearing socks or shoes, and where his foot had been a bloody footprint remained. He reached down and rubbed a finger over it, expecting the red liquid to cover his skin. The stain was permanent, soaked into the flat blank ground. It didn't smear or connect with Medic's skin and when he placed his hand on the floor to compare a maroon handprint was left. He stood up. Medic took another step and another bloody spot appeared where his foot was. He kept walking, glancing back occasionally to see the tracks he had left.

"Medic?" Medic turned back around to see who called his name. Sniper stood in front of him, wearing his battlefield attire (shirt, vest, pants, glove, and all). He had a rifle slung over his shoulder and he gripped it tightly when he saw his friend. "What're you doing here?"

The German looked at Sniper's footprints. While Medic had left blood, Sniper left grass on the pristine white floor. Sniper seemed to be looking at Medic's trail as well.

"I vanted to see vhat vas wrong."

Sniper looked at him, confused. "How should I know? You're the doctor here, not me."

"Oh, uh," Medic stammered, then sighed. "I zhought it vould be interesting."

Sniper chuckled at the almost too-curious doctor. His grip on his gun loosened and he flipped it over and leaned against it like it was a cane. "There's not too much here. Just whiteness and footprints."

"I can tell."

"So… Wot do ya think is gunna happen?"

"I don't know. Maybe zhe dream alludes to vhat vill happen to you."

Sniper grimaced. "I'd rather not talk about it"

Medic raised an eyebrow but didn't question him further.

"So zhis is your unconsciousness?"

"I guess."

"Haff you been here before?"

"Yeah, whenever I'm knocked out I come here. I thought it was just a repeatin' dream."

Medic looked around again. "Very odd… I vonder vhat zhe otzers mind are like?"

"I don't know, but I do know that they won't let you go near em if ya tell em that."

"True." Medic tilted head at Sniper. "Vhy are you not questioning me about zhis… Power?" Medic jabbed a thumb at his chest.

"Well, growin' up in Oz, I aged with all these strange things happenin' around me. We're the most advanced country - machinery advanced every day. And we have respawn here. Superpowers, or wotevah you got, ain't that hard to believe in when I see technological miracles around every corner. Who knows? Maybe respawn did that to ya."

Medic nodded, impressed. "Vould you mind trying to tell zhe otzers zhat? Your argument may be zhe most sensible zheory I've heard tonight."

Sniper smiled. "No problem, mate. Now, whattya wanna talk about while we wait fer me to wake up?"

Spy gazed lazily at his coworkers, taking a drag of his third cigarette. Hours had past. Spy had no problem staying up - he was a spy after all, it was easy for him to keep himself awake.

It was boring though, watching the two bodies laying limply in their seats. At one point Spy had tried to decipher one of Medic's medical textbooks. He gave up after a few pages of unintelligible scientific and biological terms.

So he had just been watching them. It felt odd. Spy wasn't cloaked or hiding n the shadows, he was leaning against the wall and he had been given permission - no, he was _ordered_ - to make sure nothing bad happened.

Nothing had happened at all. Only small shifts and snores caught Spy's attention.

Until Sniper shivered.


	5. Sniper

**A/N: Hallo! Before you go on to read I would like to thank my peoples and there is a note. Thank you to Annomynous, pooptowel, and Ms. Sexbang for reviewing. Thanks to Qwerty2245 and YummySparklys for following this. Now! The following chapter has a slight hint in it that I think those of you who find it will enjoy (for the most part). Anyway, as always, thanks to EnderGirl for ****_being_****. Now go read!**

The shudder ran through Sniper, his muscles tensing. Heavy had laid the man stomach-down on the table and Sniper had been shirtless when he walked into the infirmary.

Spy's eyebrow raised in curiosity under his balaclava. The bushman's tan back seemed to ripple, skin shaking like it was going to fall apart.

And then it did.

Two similar holes broke the flesh away on each side of Sniper's spine. The skin melted away, building on the edges of the holes. For a brief second, Spy could see the muscles and tendons and blood moving in the gaping wound.

Sharp bones extended outwards from the empty sockets. The two bones were almost exactly alike, only small grooves on the surface separating them from each other. Each bone moved at the same pace from their respective places, sprouting into the air, blood staining the white structure and dropping down onto Sniper's exposed back.

Spy's cigarette fell from his mouth. He couldn't look away from the horror in front of him, feet stuck to the ground and limbs frozen.

The bones were almost six inches by now. Muscles, pink and red and shining, began to climb the shards. The noise it made was awful, the unnatural squelching echoing in the previously quiet room.

The muscle spread across the bones like moss on a tree and Spy felt bile rising in the back of his throat.

He swallowed thickly, the acidic taste lingering on his tongue. He moved, finally free of his unwanted paralysis, and ran to the chair Scout had been sitting in. Spy moved it, turning it to face the shadowed corner. He sat down heavily and tried to clear his mind of what he had just witnessed. He would have honestly believed it to be a hallucination from lack of sleep but the noises behind him reminded him that it was all real.

Spy couldn't grab or light a new cigarette, hands shaking too bad for it to be possible. He instead tilted his head down and tried to block out all of his surroundings, shutting his eyes and covering his ears like a child to protect himself.

"Und vhen zhe patient voke up, his skeleton vas missing!" Sniper and Medic laughed as the doctor finished his story.

"Ain't that how you lost yer medical license?" Sniper asked, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Ja! No one appreciated my technique." Medic shrugged with a smile on his face.

Sniper opened his mouth to start telling his own story but he froze. A strangled yelp came out his mouth and Medic ran across the few feet that separated them.

"Vhat? Vhat is vrong?" Sniper reached desperately for his back, a pulling sensation ripping through his spine.

Medic felt the feeling hit his own back and he gasped. His head flung around, looking for whatever menace could be attacking his marksman.

The white landscape began to fog and Sniper started to groan in pain. Medic felt the ache in his back and the pressure in his skull. Something was happening, and he wasn't sure how bad it would be.

Lawrence swung his feet happily. He had been trying to shoot with his father's rifle but he got distracted by nature and decided to enjoy it.

He had climbed a tree.

The rifle was held in one hand and his other arm was wrapped around the trunk. He whistled lightly as he saw the forest stretch out in front of him. He was almost fifteen high. It had been hell to get that high, and Lawrence wasn't quite sure how he would scale back to the ground, but he was fine with just relaxing on the sturdy branch until he was due back to his house for dinner.

His dad was the one that ruined the peace.

"Lawrence!" Mr. Mundy was furious, looking around wildly for his son.

"Up here pa!"

"Get down here this instant!"

The twelve year old flinched at the tone of voice his father had gained.

He scooched down the tree as fast as possible as a kid holding a gun could.

"Yes?" Lawrence looked up innocently at his taller parent.

"Why," venom laced the words, "did you take my rifle?"

"I wanted to practice shooting."

"From a tree?"

"No! I just got bored and wanted to survey the land-"

"You always were bad at lying, boy."

"I'm not lyin'!" A desperate note entered the young sniper's high voice.

A snarl grew across Mr. Mundy's face. "You always were a coward - off hidin' in the bushes an' throwing rocks at the other boys instead of actually fightin'. Now yer tyrin' to shoot from a tree… Such a disgrace."

"Dad, I was just lookin' over the trees! I swear I'm not lying!"

A hard smack to the face stopped Lawrence's pleading. His cheek twitched where he had been hit and he could feel the redness beginning to bloom.

"Look here. You are a pathetic little kid. You always have been and you always will be. Don't go denying the troof!"

His words hit home and Lawrence felt his lower lip begin to quiver even though he knew it would add to his punishment.

"See!" Mr. Mundy shoved him. The boy stumbled back but caught himself. The gun flew out of his hand and skittered to a stop a few feet away. His father picked it up and looked it over, seeing the small smudges and scuffs on the metal.

"I told you not to take me gun. And whattya do? You take my gun!" Lawrence was shoved again, falling onto his back when the large hands collided with his chest. He landed with a painful thump on the ground.

"I was practicin' to shoot so I could impress you!" Lawrence cried out the truth while he laid on the ground.

The steel toed boots his dad was wearing connected with his ribs and he yelled out.

"Oh look, the boy can actually be heard! It's a shame no one else is around to hear ya."

Another kick and Lawrence swore he could feel one of his ribs crack.

There was an unnatural silence as Lawrence flipped himself onto his stomach.

He heard a gun cocking.

A bullet landed right next to his face. Lawrence made no noise as his heart pounded in his chest and his father growled at him.

"Next toime, I won't miss."

The world seemed to blur together as Mr. Mundy stalked off.

The trees went back into the ground and the brown soil transformed into hot red sand that burned on Lawrence's skin and covered the land around him.

Lawrence stared blankly into the clear blue sky, not blinking or crying, just contemplating his mistakes.

A vulture appeared out of nowhere and circled the air above the limp boy. It's calls thrummed with the beat of Lawrence's heart and he found himself following the bird's flying patterns with his eyes.

For a second, the vulture hesitated and stopped directly above him, the shadows of its wings matching up perfectly with Lawrence's body.

Then it left and Sniper woke up.

Spy had calmed over the hours that had past. He still sat in the corner, yes, but he was no longer shaking and one of his many cigarettes hung limply in his mouth.

"Spion?" Medic's morning voice was low and gravely, cracking slightly as he unwittingly spoke his native language.

Spy swallowed the lump that grew in his throat from the sheer _memory_ of what had happened. He could feel the flitting rays of weak morning sunlight on his back that came in through the small window mounted in the infirmary's wall.

"Yes?" He asked without turning around.

Medic rose, back cracking as he stretched. His glasses had fallen off in his sleep and he put them on as soon as he found them.

Sniper was slowly waking up. The metal had grown warm from his body heat and he shifted to rouse himself.

His back was numb and heavy. Had Spy put a blanket on him or something? Had he slept wrong?

Something was covering Sniper, Medic noticed. Gray, speckled white, and obviously layered, it couldn't have been one of his blankets he used on the cold patients.

Sniper tried to sit up but whatever was one his back didn't slip off. He grunted. 'Wot the hell…'

"WOT THE HELL?!

Spy instinctively turned to face the source of the scream and he yelled as well. Medic squinted until he realized just what he was looking at.

Sniper had wings.

Two, gray and white feathered bird wings, almost dragging at his feet as he stood, were connected to his body.

"WOT IS THIS?" Sniper continued to shout.

Spy was literally choking on his cigarette, which he had almost swallowed in his shock.

Medic poked curiously at the soft feathers.

"Wot are ya- STOP!" Sniper swatted the man's hand away and tugged at his new appendages.

They didn't pull off, the flesh having melded them to his body. There was no pain as Sniper tried to rip the things off but he could feel the new nerves in his back registering the sensation.

Medic felt strong feelings of confusion, anger, and panic swimming in the room. His mind was still muddled by the trip into Sniper's head but the emotions jolted him out of his stupor.

"Sniper! Stop! If you continue to do zhat, you vill mess up zhe healing process!" Medic looked at Spy. "Vhat happened vhile ve vere asleep?"

Spy spit onto the floor, dark gray saliva splattering on the tiles.

The doctor ignored the rude behavior in favor of actually getting the Frenchman to talk.

And talk he did, explaining to the best of his abilities what had happened with the bones.

"So they… They came outta me?" Sniper was utterly lost.

"Am I going to fast for you bushman? You grew wings. Maybe you'll grow balls next." Spy retorted.

Sniper swung to stare him in the eyes but the sudden motion caused his wings to smash into the surgery table. Although his back and the tops of them were numb, the ends of his wings could feel.

Two dual shots of pain hit Sniper and he growled.

"Why… The FUCK… Do I have wings?!"


End file.
